<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>merry and bright by scarlettroses</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475897">merry and bright</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettroses/pseuds/scarlettroses'>scarlettroses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Christmas, F/F, Hanukkah, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, M/M, general holiday season vibes, the cliche hallmark movie au of everyone's dreams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:34:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettroses/pseuds/scarlettroses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"As the year comes to a close and the holiday season approaches, we wanted to seek out the absolute best places to pick up some seasonal (or year-round!) treats. Whether you're too busy to bake, or simply want to treat yourself, every one of the finalists listed here will be certain to tickle your sweet tooth— but there can only be one winner and we've finally narrowed it down."</p><p>- </p><p>when sarah jacobs entered her small-town bakery into a new york times search for the best bakery in the state, she certainly wasn't expecting to win. she also wasn't expecting a big-city reporter to swoop into her little town and steal her heart. </p><p>(a cheesy hallmark movie au for the holiday season.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>you may be thinking.... "isn't it a little early for a holiday fic?" and you're probably right! but there's 2 feet of snow outside and i can't leave the house, so i'm coping with a little festive cheer.</p><p>now, this fic won't be explicitly tied to any religious holiday-- we're gonna stick to a mostly ambiguous holiday theme with some vague mentions of hanukkah and christmas throughout. it takes place in early december anyways, so the main idea is just about getting festive no matter what you celebrate!</p><p>i'm thinking this'll be about 5 chapters of cheesiness and the most cliche and predictable plot points ever-- not my best writing, that's for sure, but does a fic really have to be "good"? is it not enough to just have a little fun?</p><p>enjoy!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>Worth the trip upstate: New York's best bakery of the year</b>.</p><p>Sarah has read and re-read the article about a million times now. She's in the <em>New York Times</em>. This is absolutely insane.</p><p>
  <em>As the year comes to a close and the holiday season approaches, we wanted to seek out the absolute best places to pick up some seasonal (or year-round!) treats. Whether you're too busy to bake, or simply want to treat yourself, every one of the finalists listed here will be certain to tickle your sweet tooth— but there can only be one winner and we've finally narrowed it down.</em>
</p><p>She'd scanned down the list of finalists over and over again, still in awe that she was even able to compete with these incredible bakers. She entered the contest on a whim, sure it wouldn't amount to anything, and now her tiny little business in her tiny little town is being hailed as the best in the state.</p><p>She's got a sign going up in the window, announcing the win, and several neighbours have already been by to offer their congratulations. It feels like she's been floating on Cloud 9 all morning, unable to let anything get her down.</p><p>"Maybe all this attention will finally find you a husband," one of her mother's friends jokes as Sarah wraps up her order. "Make sure to keep an eye out for any handsome city boys coming through."</p><p>"Very funny, Mrs. Smith," Sarah chuckles, handing the box of cookies across the counter, and then tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "But I don't think I'll have time for romance with all the new customers this is about to bring in. Business first, you know."</p><p>The old woman sighs as she takes her purchase.</p><p>"One of these days, Sarah. You'll have to settle down at some point. Aren't you nearly thirty?"</p><p>Even this can't kill her mood today, so Sarah just gasps and clutches her non-existent pearls in mock offense.</p><p>"Don't you know it's impolite to ask a lady's age?"</p><p>Mrs. Smith laughs and shakes her head— she's been present throughout the majority of Sarah's life, as have most of the women in this tight-knit town, so she's well aware that this advice has been heard and ignored a hundred times over. Despite countless efforts to mentor Sarah into a quiet little life of marriage and motherhood, they've yet to make any impact.</p><p>"I'll see you tomorrow, dear. Congratulations again— make sure sure the fame doesn't go to your head!"</p><p>And then she's off. In a town this small, Sarah has typically relied on her regulars to keep the business afloat, so she'll take some repetitive and misplaced advice if it means consistent sales. She knows none of her mother's friends have any bad intentions in their efforts to settle her down, but she sure wishes they'd realize how useless it is to keep bothering her.</p><p>"Charlie," she calls, trying to put her brain back in business mode. "Do you know when the shipment of holiday stuff is coming in?"</p><p>Thanksgiving has just passed and the holiday season (which Sarah refuses to acknowledge until the first of December) is looming. She's got decorations and special ingredients for seasonal treats on order, so that she can double down on festivity as soon as the calendar changes. While Jewish herself, she tries to give a general <em>winter holiday</em> theme to the bakery— some of the less-than-religious aspects of Christmas have always sort of thrilled her, if only for her love of sparkles and sweets.</p><p>"It should be here by the end of the day," Charlie replies, emerging from the kitchen with her signature grin on. "I can't wait to make the little marshmallow snowmen, they're my favourite."</p><p>Adding holiday treats to the menu is a bit of a headache, but at least Sarah can rely on Charlie's perpetual optimism (and borderline obnoxious holiday spirit) to get them through. She's always got the most creative ideas and a willingness to get down to business and make them work— she's the best employee Sarah has ever had the pleasure of hiring.</p><p>"I'm glad you're excited," Sarah chuckles. "Because I'm pretty sure this is about to be the craziest month ever. I have no clue how we're going to keep up."</p><p>"Oh, we'll manage!" Charlie says. "You know, I got a text from Racetrack today, asking if you're hiring. I think he's just interested because he saw us in the news, but he told me it's because he has nothing to do now that the harvest is in, and he <em>sort of knows how to bake</em>. So, I mean, if we need more help... he's technically an option."</p><p>Sarah rolls her eyes, but she really is amused, and she'll probably extend an offer for him to come work the front counter. Race is one of the more tolerable farm boys she's met, and he actually makes surprisingly good company— he'd been friends with Les growing up, as they're closer to the same age and had played on all the same sports teams, but Sarah never minded when he came around their house to visit. With Les off to college, Race still just shows up sometimes to say hello, which is honestly adorable.</p><p>"I'll call him tonight," Sarah laughs. "He's a hard worker and I'm sure he could manage the counter."</p><p>Charlie raises an eyebrow.</p><p>"He's a bit of an idiot." Race is her little cousin (or something along those lines— anyone remotely related to anyone else is considered a cousin around here) and they've antagonized each other since childhood. "I wouldn't trust him."</p><p>"He's a <em>charismatic</em> idiot," Sarah reminds her, "so he'll do a perfectly fine job of taking orders and talking to people. Besides, I'm confident he can count change and package up pastries."</p><p>Charlie sighs, blowing a few stray hairs out of her face, which come floating back down to hang in her eyes again. Her long, wavy hair is tied into its usual braid, hanging down her back, with a handful of pieces that are always pulled out to frame her freckled face— they seem to annoy her, but it's her signature look.</p><p>"All he knows how to do is play hockey and drive a tractor," she grumbles. "Not worth the hire, I'm telling you."</p><p>Sarah just laughs and shakes her head. If anything, it'll be funny to watch Race and Charlie pick on each other at work, the way they always used to in school.</p><p>"Can you cover the front counter for a bit?" she asks, purposefully changing the subject, and already heading off towards her office. "I've been meaning to go update the website and socials and check emails and stuff. I'll be like half an hour."</p><p>"You got it, boss," Charlie replies, shooting Sarah a thumbs-up. She's not going to argue the Race issue anymore, as she's probably secretly looking forward to bothering her little cousin all day at work. "Catch you in a bit!"</p><p>-</p><p>"David Jacobs, answer the fucking phone right now, I swear to god..."</p><p>Katherine Pulitzer keeps her phone pressed to her ear as she charges down the street, bumping past business people and a surprising amount of early holiday shoppers. She's New York City born and raised, so she's got no time for politely sneaking around people who walk <em>too goddamn slow</em> and take up the whole sidewalk.</p><p>"<em>Hey girl</em>," Davey finally says, picking up the call. "<em>What's up</em>?"</p><p>"Ugh, you would <em>not</em> believe the day I've had," Katherine groans. This is how most of her conversations with Davey go— one of them gets pissed off about something at work and immediately takes it out on the other. "What are you doing tonight?"</p><p>Davey hums softly and she can practically see him shrug.</p><p>"<em>I don't know, I was gonna take the hubby to that sushi place we like— you know the Upper East Side one I told you about? I'm finally done with the Ross and Simmons case that I've been on for months, so I need to spoil Jack a little to make up for being at the office so much</em>."</p><p>"Oh shit, you're done?" Kath asks, finally turning the corner towards her apartment. "Did you win?"</p><p>"<em>Obviously</em>," Davey scoffs. "<em>Please</em>, <em>I don't lose. Anyways... what if Jack and I come over after dinner for drinks? I'll bring that merlot you got wasted on last time.</em>"</p><p>Katherine can't help but laugh as she approaches her building.</p><p>"You're a gem, Jacobs. I love the way you think."</p><p>"<em>Why else do you keep me around?</em>" Davey chuckles. "<em>I get you drunk and listen to your problems, it's a sweet deal</em>."</p><p>"It really is," Kath sighs. "Have a good date, I'll see you in a while. I've <em>gotta</em> tell you about the absolutely ridiculous fucking bullshit I put up with today— you'll scream."</p><p>"<em>Well, now I'm intrigued. Keep this energy, I'll talk to you in a few hours</em>."</p><p>Katherine enters the building as they hang up the call, and then jams the elevator button rather impatiently. It's getting cold early this year— a random flurry of snow dropped today and she hadn't been prepared for it, so her toes are freezing in her damp shoes and her hair is wet with melting snowflakes.</p><p>God, she just wants this mess of a day to be over.</p><p>-</p><p>"Why are you even here? She's <em>not</em> going to hire you."</p><p>Charlie's voice carries through the bakery as Sarah emerges from her office. She can only assume that Race has come by for a visit.</p><p>"I'm sorry, I don't think <em>you</em> own the bakery," Race's distinctive voice replies, confirming Sarah's guess. "I'm asking Sarah myself. And fuck you— I'm not even here about that! I need to buy buns because I'm helping Grandma with dinner, and when I get home I'll tell her you were mean to me <em>and</em> you're bad at customer service."</p><p>Sarah is already laughing when she walks through the kitchen to arrive behind the counter. The family resemblance is ridiculously apparent while Race and Charlie glare at each other— sandy blonde hair, a light spattering of freckles, and near-identical face shapes.</p><p>"Okay kids, let's be a little nicer to each other." Sarah chuckles. While she's not really that much older than them and they're certainly not children— she's twenty-nine, Charlie is twenty-four, and Race is twenty-two— she's always treated them both like little siblings. "Charlie, you can go get the next batch of sugar cookies frosted. Racer, what can I get for you?"</p><p>Charlie leaves the room with a huff, shooting Race a not-so-subtle middle finger as she goes.</p><p>"I just need a dozen dinner buns— but I wanted to come say congratulations! I saw the Times article, that's sick!" He flicks up the brim of his hat, which is already perched precariously high on his head, and grins. "We've got another local celebrity on our hands. I think a major celly is in order."</p><p>Sarah scoffs as she bags up his order. She's not the first in her family to make headlines— her baby brother, Les, was a first-round draft pick in the NHL this past summer. Between that and her twin, Davey, becoming a big-shot corporate lawyer in the city, their family has been putting their little town on the map lately.</p><p>"Very funny. But, you might be right: I just got an email from a New York Times editor before you got here— they're sending some reporter out here to do a <em>week in the life</em> article! I'm not just Lester Jacobs' boring older sister anymore."</p><p>"Aw, you were <em>never</em> boring." Race leans on the counter, clearly laying on the charm— he'll flirt his way into anything, this kid. "You're the coolest Jacobs, as far as I'm concerned."</p><p>Sarah snorts, rolling her eyes.</p><p>"What's with the compliments? Charlie told me you're looking for a job— you think you're gonna charm me into hiring you?"</p><p>She slides the buns across the counter and punches the price into the computer so he can swipe his debit card.</p><p>"Is it working?" he asks. "I'll compliment you every day of it means I can get off the farm for a few hours— there's not much to do this time of year. I promise these hands are good for more than slinging bardownskis, I make a mean gingerbread cookie."</p><p>The hockey lingo that has infiltrated everyone in this town's vocabulary never ceases to amuse Sarah— it's practically its own dialect. It'll probably be a nice mix of confusing and endearing for any city folk that happen to come through.</p><p>"You can come work the front counter whichever days are good for you," she laughs. "You gotta play nice with Charlie, though."</p><p>Race lights up like a Christmas tree.</p><p>"Sarah, you fuckin beaut!" He claps his hands together excitedly, before taking the bag of buns. "I'll be so nice to Charlie you won't believe it! Also, are you coming out to the game tomorrow? It's gonna be an absolute barn burner."</p><p>While Race hasn't quite gone pro like Les, he plays for their local rec team now that he's too old for the elite junior leagues. For a recreational team, the local club is pretty damn good— they like to boast that they were the first group Les Jacobs ever trained with.</p><p>"I was thinking I'd go," Sarah replies. "I know Charlie wants to, so if we can get all the holiday decorating and stuff done tonight, we'll be free tomorrow."</p><p>"Of course <em>Charlie</em> wants to go," Race teases, "the fuckin' puck bunny."</p><p>"Fuck you, you fuckin' duster!" Charlie calls from the back, and Sarah thanks all that's holy that no other customers are around.</p><p>"Hey, you promised you'd be nice, like five seconds ago." Sarah warns. "I'm not having you scare customers away with this bullshit."</p><p>Race's eyes go wide, as if he hadn't even realized he'd said something mean to begin with, as it's just so natural between them.</p><p>"Right. Sorry. As soon as I'm on the job, not a single word— I swear it." He puts his hands up in surrender as he makes for the door. "Thanks again, Sarah."</p><p>As he leaves, all Sarah can do is facepalm. That poor reporter the Times is sending... what are they gonna think of this staff?</p><p>-</p><p>"...so then he tells me, since I wanted out of Entertainment so badly, he's switching me to <em>Food</em>! I have to write fucking restaurant reviews! He's out to get me, I swear to god!"</p><p>Katherine is laying on her couch, venting like she's in a therapist's office, while Davey and Jack attempt to console her with wine and snacks.</p><p>"It could be worse," Jack offers. "Think of all the cool food you'll get to try! Who doesn't like eating?"</p><p>Now, Katherine adores Jack, don't get her wrong— but that boy doesn't have one thought worth a dime floating around in that pretty little head of his. He's blissfully oblivious at the best of times, though he always, <em>always</em> has something nice to say. Rather than pick up on the workplace sexism that Kath has been complaining about and fighting against for months, of <em>course</em> he's just going to look on the bright side and try to cheer her up in his own little way. </p><p>"You have a point," she sighs. "But I just wanna break into the hard news! I'm trying to cover <em>politics</em>, and they're sending me upstate to write a feature on some award-winning bakery— I'll probably follow some little old lady around for a week and then have to make an article out of it. This is so stupid."</p><p>Davey takes the empty wine glass from her hand to refill it with a sympathetic sigh.</p><p>"You deserve so much better, you work <em>so</em> hard," he says, probably just trying to stroke her ego, but she'll take it anyways. "I mean, do you wanna sue? Because we can, you know— I'll take it to court."</p><p>Katherine rolls her eyes. Having one of the best up-and-coming lawyers in the city on her side will probably be worth it at some point, but she's rather sure that not getting the promotion she wants isn't exactly grounds for a lawsuit.</p><p>"We don't need to sue, but I appreciate the offer," she laughs. "I'll save it for when I <em>really</em> need it. I mean, maybe going upstate won't be so bad, anyways— didn't you grow up in a small town, Davey?"</p><p>"Yeah, and it was <em>hell</em>," Davey scoffs, bitterly. "It was a little hockey town, and not only was I the only gay kid, but I was bad at skating too: when the other kids can't decide between calling you a bender and a fag, life's pretty rough. <em>And</em> we were, like, the only Jewish family, so I got made fun of for not going to church with everyone else. It sucked."</p><p>Okay... so much for looking on the bright side. If the town where Katherine is headed is anything like the one Davey grew up in, she might be in for a downright horrible week.</p><p>"What the fuck is a bender?" Jack asks, while reaching for the box of Oreos on the table and then popping one into his mouth.</p><p>"It's like... bendy ankles. When you're bad at skating and can't stay upright." Davey sighs and looks somewhat disgusted with himself. "I hate that that's even in my vocabulary."</p><p>"Okay, Mr. Hockey," Katherine teases. "What team does your brother play for again? Maybe you can still get recruited."</p><p>Davey rolls his eyes and takes a long sip of his wine.</p><p>"I think one Jacobs is all the Jets could ever need. I'm perfectly happy never putting skates on again."</p><p>Jack gasps affrontedly at this and smacks Davey on the arm.</p><p>"We're going up to stay with your family <em>next week</em>, and you're not gonna teach me how to skate!? What the fuck? I want the pre-Manhattan Davey experience!" He turns to Kath. "We'll be upstate next week too, since <em>someone</em> had to work over Thanksgiving and now we have to make it up to his parents— so you're not alone. Hopefully wherever you're going is better than Davey's town."</p><p>"Hey, I didn't have a choice about the Thanksgiving thing!" Davey, in all his lawyer glory, immediately gets defensive. "We're going next week and staying until the end of Hanukkah, so don't say I don't value family— I had to fight for all this time off."</p><p>Katherine, sensing a bit of a point of contention here (as she knows damn well that the issue of Davey working too much has been a recurring theme in their marriage), just looks back and forth between the two of them and shakes her head fondly.</p><p>"So we're <em>all</em> living our Hallmark movie fantasies next week, then," she giggles. "Holiday season in a small town... <em>so</em> cliche. Maybe I'll fall in love or something."</p><p>Davey genuinely <em>cackles</em> at that, which is frankly a little offensive.</p><p>"You!? Falling in love!?" he says incredulously. "Oh my god, I think we found our holiday miracle."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>please leave a comment or some kudos so i know you were here! </p><p>how do you think sarah and kath's first meeting will go? does anyone need a translation of race's hockey dialogue? will kath hate davey's hometown as much as he does? stay tuned! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>first meetings and bakery shenanigans!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh my god this chapter is SO long. i don't know how to be concise and got carried away with banter, but here's almost 4k words as a belated american thanksgiving gift. no i did not proofread it and i'm about to go to work so... be warned that typos are incredibly likely. </p><p>can you tell i absolutely loved this dynamic i've crafted between race and crutchie? there's a lot of them here, since a fic is only as good as its supporting characters imo. anyways, what's a hallmark movie without some witty background characters?</p><p>not sure how updates will progress since finals are on the horizon, but hopefully they won't take as long as this one did! enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Race, you're gonna mess it up! Just stop touching it!"</p><p>"Well, <em>Charlotte</em>, I'm sorry for trying to help," Race snaps. "Do you wanna drag the tree in by yourself?"</p><p>"Don't call me Charlotte, you asshole!" Charlie shouts. "You're fucking up the branches, just be gentle with it!"</p><p>Sarah can do nothing but sigh as she watches the two of them try to wrangle the Christmas tree from the back of Race's truck through the front door. It's first thing in the morning and they're already bickering— it's certainly going to be an interesting day.</p><p>They open late on Sundays (since most of the town is at church anyways,) so they're using the free morning to finish decorating. Sarah has opted to have no part in the Christmas tree shenanigans, if only to assert her Jewishness, but she's beginning to regret leaving the task to Race and Charlie— they've been on their best behaviour all week since Race was hired, but finalizing the holiday decor is apparently the catalyst to revive their feud.</p><p>If anything, she supposes maybe they'll get all their fighting over with now so that they can settle down for the rest of the day. The reporter from the New York Times is supposed to get here this afternoon, and Sarah is rather desperate to make a good first impression— fighting employees and an ugly tree will certainly get them off on the wrong foot.</p><p>"You'd get this done a lot faster if you'd just cooperate," Sarah notes, from where she sits at the counter with her laptop, working her way through an inventory spreadsheet. "It can't be that hard to put up a tree."</p><p>"Well, Race is making it difficult," Charlie huffs. "If I had real legs, I'd just do it my damn self!"</p><p>She kicks a leg out for emphasis, as if to remind them that she's got prosthetics from the knees down. She can walk almost completely normally, given that it's been nearly a decade since the farming accident that led to her amputations, but plastic feet just don't provide the same kind of balance as real ones and she'd likely topple right over if she tried to drag the tree alone.</p><p>"We've almost got it," Race groans. "You're so dramatic."</p><p>Sarah simply rolls her eyes and goes back to trying to figure out how much extra confectioner's sugar she needs to order now that they've had to up their production. They've got a <em>lot</em> of cookies and cupcakes to frost, and she's even picked up an extra stand mixer (she nicked it from her mother's kitchen, but that's neither here nor there) to keep up with the rush.</p><p>The past week has already been crazy busy with people driving up just to check out her signature creations— she's even considering putting Davey and his husband to work when they're in town. Not that she expects either of them to be anything close to competent when it comes to baking, but Jack <em>is</em> a painter, so he could surely decorate some treats. Davey could... supervise? He's not exactly handy in the kitchen, nor would he be any good at customer service, but he's got an eye for details so maybe he could just help package things up and keep everyone else on task. This <em>is</em> a family business, after all.</p><p>By the time Sarah finishes punching numbers into her spreadsheet, Race and Charlie seem to have settled down and the tree is starting to look half-decent. It's got lights strung around it, and Race is in the process of adding tinsel while Charlie meticulously organizes ornaments by shape and colour. They've finally gone quiet, which is <em>such</em> a relief.</p><p>Maybe they can keep their best behaviour up for the rest of the week and knock the socks off the New York Times.</p><p>-</p><p>"...and it's all because my boss is a fucking misogynist! It's ridiculous!"</p><p>Katherine is ranting yet again, her phone hooked up to her car stereo, while Davey and Jack are on speaker-phone on the other end. They're packing for their own trip upstate to Davey's hometown (which Katherine now realizes she doesn't know the name of,) while she drives up to write her bakery article in the middle of nowhere.</p><p>"<em>When I hurt my back, I went to a misogynist,</em>" Jack says, in all his mindless glory. "<em>It was really nice.</em>"</p><p>There's a moment of confused silence, before Davey sighs.</p><p>"<em>Massage therapist, baby</em>." Kath can practically see him reaching over to pet Jack's hair in that fond, infatuated way that he always does. "<em>You were close, but it's not the same thing.</em>"</p><p>"<em>Isn't that what I said?</em>"</p><p>Sometimes Katherine marvels at how Jack has managed to keep himself alive for nearly thirty years. To be fair, he's incredibly successful— he's a professional artist working on his third gallery collection, and he's done his fair share of modelling: photoshoots and runways alike. He knows how to market himself and his work, and he's remarkably dedicated to what he does... and then he says things like this and leaves Kath questioning if he may have been dropped on his head as an infant.</p><p>"My GPS says I'm just about there," Kath says after a moment. "I'm like ten minutes out."</p><p>"<em>Maybe we'll let you go then,</em>" Davey says, and Kath has a very strong suspicion that the two of them aren't about to get much packing done, if Jack's little giggles in the background are anything to go by. "<em>Text me once you're all settled in, so I know you're safe!</em>"</p><p>And then the call ends, and Kath just has to roll her eyes. She loves her best friends, but god, they're disgusting.</p><p>-</p><p>With the business side of things taken care of, the decorating finally finished, and the doors open to the public, Sarah is in her element.</p><p>She's got a million things on the go at once: batches of cookie dough being portioned and prepped to go in the freezer, loaves and loaves of bread in the oven, cupcakes awaiting their frosting, and various loaves and cakes of all flavours to be sliced. Charlie is milling around getting things done as well, and Race is doing an excellent job of handling customers and packing orders. They could definitely use a few more hands on deck, seeing as it's about ten times busier than they've ever been with a customer every few minutes, but they're making it work.</p><p>Just when it seems as if she couldn't possibly be busier, Sarah is interrupted by Race poking his head into the kitchen.</p><p>"Uh, boss? Your reporter lady is here." He pauses, then lowers his voice to a whisper. "Between me and you, she's a <em>dime</em>."</p><p>He winks, and Sarah just laughs.</p><p>"She's not gonna fuck you. Don't you have a boyfriend, anyways?"</p><p>This makes Race immediately blush brighter than Sarah has ever seen, as he's not typically one to get embarrassed. It's adorable, really, his little romance with one of the hockey players from the next town over— rumour has it that Spot Conlon often stays the night at the Higgins' farm after games, and that sometimes he'll drive all the way here on his free evenings just to take Race out.</p><p>"He's not my boyfriend," Race hisses. "If hanging out with a boy after games sometimes were dating, Charlie would be dating like six different guys."</p><p>"I fuckin' heard that," Charlie cuts in, looking up from where she's piping buttercream onto cupcakes. "I'm dating <em>one</em> guy. I hang out with other people, but Finch is the only one who stays at my house and takes me for night drives— a bit like you and your little boy toy."</p><p>"Shut <em>up</em>," Race groans. "I'm <em>not</em> dating him. We're friends."</p><p>Before she can jump in on chirping Race any further, Sarah suddenly remembers the reporter— the whole reason Race came into the kitchen in the first place.</p><p>"Okay, both of you be good," she sighs. "I'm gonna go meet this reporter, and hopefully not embarrass myself. Do I look presentable?"</p><p>Race and Charlie each give her a quick once over and nod their approval, so she takes a deep breath and heads out to the front counter.</p><p>-</p><p>So... it turns out that Sarah Jacobs <em>isn't </em>a little old lady.</p><p>Now, in Katherine's defence, they've only talked over email— who might one reasonably expect to own a bakery in a sleepy little town? Certainly not the no-older-than-thirty, looks-like-a-character-out-of-a-romcom girl that walks out of the kitchen, dusting flour off her hands and onto her apron. It takes Kath a second to process this.</p><p>"Hi! You must be Katherine!" the girl says, and her name tag definitely reads <em>Sarah</em>, so it must be her. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person."</p><p>She reaches out for a handshake, and Katherine has to remind herself to act like a normal human being and return the gesture.</p><p>"Katherine Plumber," she says, reverting quickly to her professional voice. "It's great to meet you. Sarah, right?"</p><p>That was a silly question, given that her name tag is plainly obvious, but sometimes journalism means asking stupid questions to be entirely sure of things. That's at least what Katherine tells herself, so that she can deny the fact that the shock of seeing a ridiculously pretty girl when she wasn't expecting it has thrown her off her rhythm.</p><p>"The one and only," Sarah laughs, while swiftly pushing a curl behind her ear. "Can I make you a coffee or something? That drive up from the city is always weirdly exhausting."</p><p>Exhausting is one word for it— nearly four hours of driving past farms, farms, and more farms is enough to put anyone half to sleep. Kath even made the mistake of cranking the heat in her car for the majority of the drive, out of some near-primal desire to feel cozy and comfortable, and only managed to make the urge to go to bed increase tenfold.</p><p>"I could definitely go for a coffee," Katherine sighs. "Do you guys do, like, an oat milk latte?"</p><p>"Uh, no... just brewed coffee." Sarah holds up a coffee pot with an almost sympathetic smile. "I actually did try making oat milk the other day though! My brother's coming up for a visit, and he doesn't do dairy. I think it turned out alright, if you want to try a splash of it."</p><p>She doesn't have an espresso machine and she makes her own oat milk... next thing you know, Sarah's going to say she farms the eggs for her baking herself from a chicken coop out back. Katherine nearly laughs at the absurdity of it.</p><p>"Uh, sure," she replies, willing her voice not to give away how horribly judgemental she's being on the inside. "I'll give it a shot."</p><p>If only to give herself something else to focus on, Katherine quickly looks down to search for her wallet in her purse. Before she can pull it out, Sarah is sliding a mug of coffee across the counter and then waving a hand dismissively.</p><p>"It's on the house, don't worry about it. Sugar and cream are just over there on the end of the counter, and I'll run to the back and grab that oat milk for you."</p><p>She's off like a whirlwind, before Katherine can even say thank you. She's just left sort of stunned, stirring sugar into her drink in a nearly trance-like state. This week is certainly not going to be what she expected.</p><p>-</p><p>"Race, you weren't kidding," Sarah whispers, upon returning to the kitchen. "Jesus, she's hot. Oh my god."</p><p>Race, who seems to be doing his best to copy Charlie's cookie decorating skills onto a miserable tray-full of his own, turns around with a shit-eating grin.</p><p>"Told you so," he laughs. "She's a fuckin' rocket, am I right?"</p><p>Sarah leans over onto the counter and drops her head in her hands, all too dramatically.</p><p>"You're <em>right</em>," she groans. "God, I fucking hate it when you're right."</p><p>She doesn't even have to look up to know that Race is probably sticking his tongue out and taunting her, while Charlie is likely entirely exasperated with both of them.</p><p>"You're both useless," Charlie finally says, confirming Sarah's guess. "Honestly. <em>One</em> hot girl and you both lose your minds... am I the only sane person around here?"</p><p>-</p><p>"Okay, I'm just going to turn on the tape recorder so I can listen to all of this again later, but I'll delete any recordings once the article is done. If there's anything you don't want on the record, just say so and I'll pause it."</p><p>Sarah seems sort of amused by the formality of it all, but she doesn't protest at all, so Kath hits <em>record</em>. They're sitting at a little table by the front window of the bakery— Sarah has hung up her apron for the afternoon to sit down and talk. They'll start the whole <em>day in the life</em> thing tomorrow, and they're taking today to get all the background information out of the way.</p><p>"I'll make sure to warn you before I share any of my deepest secrets," Sarah laughs. "Wouldn't want to accidentally let my pie dough recipe slip, or something."</p><p>Katherine laughs along, but internally dies a little— if a pie recipe is the most scandalous piece of information Sarah has, this week is going to be horribly, unbearably boring. She just might have to finally fight her boss when she gets back to the office for making her do this.</p><p>"So, to start with, maybe we can just get into the basics— how did you get into baking to begin with?"</p><p>Sarah smiles, and Katherine really hates that her heart gives a little flutter— she seriously cannot be <em>this</em> attracted to a baker in some middle-of-nowhere town. It's that goddamn <em>smile</em>, making things difficult for her.</p><p>"It was kind of a family thing," she says, and the fondness that radiates from her tone nearly manages to warm Katherine's cold little heart just a little. "My parents moved here from Poland before I was born, and my grandma sent this big handmade cookbook along— I never got to meet her, but I grew up using her recipes and it made me feel a little more connected. She left all these little notes in the margins, and they almost make it feel like she's talking to you as you read it. I <em>loved</em> that book— I spent almost all my free time learning to bake when I was a kid, and it sort of just snowballed into what it is today. I got a job in this bakery in high school, and the owner left it to me when she retired; I rebranded after a while and made it my own... and here we are!"</p><p>Okay, that's ridiculously sweet. If not particularly exciting, Kath can certainly see the value in how adorable it is.</p><p>"Speaking of rebranding," Kath cuts in, "did you choose the name of the shop? It's really unique."</p><p>By unique, she means <em>confusing</em>, but that's practically the same thing. She'd spelled it wrong twice while trying to put it into Google Maps (possibly more due to her own abysmal spelling ability) and she's not even going to try to pronounce it herself.</p><p>"I did!" Sarah grins. "<em>Piekarnia</em> is Polish for <em>bakery</em>, so it's like a little homage to where I'm from. My brothers thought it was silly, since people probably won't get it, but honestly? It's not really for anyone else to get— it's my bakery."</p><p>Katherine blinks. This bakery, in all its award-winning glory, is simply called... <em>bakery</em>. It's irrationally infuriating on every possible level. She might scream.</p><p>Like, it's a cute detail to use her native language, sure, but it's just so <em>boring— </em>in fact, Kath is rather sure she could come up with a whole list of better bakery names off the top of her head right now: <em>Batch Made in Heaven, History in the Baking, Seven Glaze a Week, What You Bake of It</em>... they practically write themselves! It's not that hard! There's so much more she could've done, and maybe even found a way to work a Polish word in there too. Seriously... <em>bakery</em>. It's so lame.</p><p>As the interview continues, Katherine consistently finds herself baffled by not only how simple everything in Sarah's life is, but by how content she seems with it. She owns her little bakery with a boring name, right in the same town where she grew up, and she lives a block away from her parents. She's got a golden retriever, she teaches the odd dance class at the studio in town, and she doesn't even mind being perpetually single— she makes a little joke about how there's not much of a dating pool around here, but Kath can hardly hear her over the little voice in the back of her head screaming that this girl with a gorgeous smile and ridiculously kind demeanour is also <em>single</em>! It's completely silly, since Kath is only in town for a week and she's already decided that Sarah's simple little life does nothing more than piss her off in an entirely unwarranted way, but she somehow can't let go of the idea. Sarah is single, Katherine is single, and she can't be blamed for trying to put the pieces together, regardless of how well they may or may not fit.</p><p>"But yeah," Sarah continues, breaking Katherine out of her thoughts, "I guess I'm just married to my job. You know how it is, hey?"</p><p>Katherine nods and can't help but laugh.</p><p>"Oh, I sure do."</p><p>-</p><p>With the interview concluded, Sarah finds herself back in the kitchen, while Katherine stays at the table to work away at something on her computer.</p><p>Being interviewed is precisely as awkward and nerve-wracking as she'd expected, and while Katherine is super hot and friendly enough, Sarah will admit that she feels a little judged. Maybe she's just projecting her own insecurities, but it felt sort of like Katherine was annoyed to even be interviewing her in the first place.</p><p>God, she's overthinking it. And now she's over-kneading the dough on the counter in front of her, because she'd been preoccupied with her thoughts. Damn it.</p><p>She quickly wraps the hopefully-not-ruined dough in cling wrap, labels it, and tosses it in the fridge, before glancing at the clock on the wall. As long as traffic wasn't crazy while getting out of the city, Davey and Jack should be here any minute now— she's honestly far more excited than a grown woman ought to be.</p><p>Despite a couple of years of marriage, and a few more of dating, Davey has never brought Jack home. In fact, Davey simply hasn't been home at <em>all</em> in years, husband or not. They only see each other if Sarah goes into the city, or on the family vacations they've started taking every summer (since Davey's a rich, big-shot lawyer who can take his family on trips now.) She can't exactly blame her twin for not coming home— he always hated small-town life, and suffered some pretty relentless bullying at the hands of some local boys growing up, so this town isn't made of good memories for him— but she's certainly missed having him around. That, and she's <em>so</em> looking forward to turning Jack into a country boy, just like he's always dreamed. She can see him getting along particularly well with Charlie and Race, which just might drive Davey crazy.</p><p>"Sarah!" There's a shout from the front of the store, and Sarah honestly can't quite tell if Race is panicked or excited. "Is that who I think it is that just pulled up!?"</p><p>Ah, so he's excited.</p><p>Race, as a friend of Les' growing up, always thought Davey was insanely cool, and followed him around pretty obsessively for a while. The school in town has all the grades from kindergarten to twelfth in the same building, so when Davey was technically a high school freshman, he had a little second-grade Race copying his every move. It was adorable, really, and Race still sort of idolizes Davey to this day.</p><p>"He told me not to tell anyone he was coming home," Sarah laughs as she leaves the kitchen. "But, surprise! He's finally back!"</p><p>Race has literally begun to jump up and down, while Sarah just rolls her eyes. Katherine thankfully hasn't caught onto the commotion, busy working away with her earbuds in.</p><p>"No way," Charlie says, following Sarah out of the kitchen. "I haven't seen your brother in <em>so</em> long." She cranes her neck to look out the front window, watching both Davey and Jack climb out of their expensive sports car. "Woah, did he bring someone home with him!?"</p><p>"There's another surprise," Sarah giggles. "He's been married to Jack for almost three years."</p><p>While some people managed to put the pieces together, Davey never officially came out while living at home. At lot of the assumptions people made about him were based in the fact that he wasn't all that interested in sports and cared to dress a little nicer than other boys— he didn't want to give all their prejudiced neighbours the satisfaction of knowing they were right, since their reasons for thinking he was gay were so misguided.</p><p>Charlie's eyes go wide and Race's jaw drops. They were both a little too young to have caught onto the rumours before he moved away.</p><p>"Was anyone gonna tell me that Davey-boy and I play for the same team?" Race asks. "Or was I just supposed to figure that out myself? What the fuck?"</p><p>Before Sarah can reply, the bell above the door rings as Davey and Jack walk in, stomping the snow off their shoes.</p><p>"Hey ladies!" Davey calls, pushing his sunglasses up to perch on top of his head. He looks over the counter and frowns a little. "Oh, and Race, I guess— <em>Jesus</em>, you got tall, what the fuck? Anyways... did anyone miss me!?"</p><p>Sarah rushes around the counter to pull both of them into a hug.</p><p>"Of course I missed you, asshole," she grumbles. "It's about damn time you came home."</p><p>"Who's the rocket, Jacobs?" Race interrupts, nodding towards Jack with that horribly smug hockey-player grin. "I didn't realize you knew so much about stick-handling, if you know what I mean." He pauses, frowns, and continues before Davey can reply. "That sounded homophobic. Sorry. I'm gay too, don't worry."</p><p>Davey seems to go on a face journey from offended, to confused, to simply amused, and then just laughs.</p><p>"This is my husband Jack," he says. "Jack, this is Les' friend Race, and his cousin Charlie. I'm a little afraid of how well you guys are going to get along, now that I think about it."</p><p>"I was totally thinking the same thing," Sarah laughs. "We're in for it now."</p><p>Before the conversation can go much further, Sarah notices that Katherine has looked up from her computer and is pulling an earbud out with a confused sort of expression. She stares at Davey and Jack for a moment and then laughs a little to herself.</p><p>"<em>Davey</em>," Katherine finally says, grabbing everyone's attention. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>Davey turns to her and immediately lights up. Sarah is officially confused.</p><p>"Kath! Oh my god, <em>this</em> is where you're working? You didn't tell me you were interviewing my <em>sister</em>!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>there we go, all the characters in one place!!! who knows what kind of ridiculousness everyone will get up to now.</p><p>comments are very much appreciated, so please let me know what you thought!! who's your favourite character so far? ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>family time in the kitchen and holiday magic starting to kick in!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok listen i'm in the middle of finals so i can't be blamed for any mistakes in this chapter,, this semester is kicking my ass and i don't know why i thought 6 classes would be easy :/</p><p>writing this fic is a nice distraction though! if you're waiting on an update for one of my other works, please continue to hold until i gain some brain power back over xmas break. this fic is Stupid and Ridiculous so it's much easier to write than something where the plot actually needs to make sense.</p><p>while writing this, i listened to a playlist i found called "Christmas time but not Christmas songs" so now its the official soundtrack to this fic- look it up on apple music or spotify to enhance the festive experience while u read! :)</p><p>i hope everyone is keeping safe and warm! enjoy another cheesy and silly chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Katherine looks back and forth between Sarah and Davey, everything suddenly becomes very clear.</p><p>In her defence, they really don't look that much alike— she can recall Davey once mentioning that he and his sister are <em>about as fraternal as twins can get</em>. Davey has far darker hair but lighter eyes, Sarah's on the shorter side while Davey is a solid six-foot-one, and while they have the same nose and chin, their other features aren't that similar. Kath is guessing they're probably each a spitting image of one of their parents.</p><p>But still, the last name probably should've clued her in. This is embarrassing.</p><p>"Kath, I thought you were supposed to be somewhere for work!" Jack says, blissfully clueless, looking rather like an excited puppy. "You were interviewing a baker, and— <em>oh</em>. Hang on, Sarah's the baker. Got it."</p><p>Sarah laughs at that and reaches over to ruffle Jack's hair.</p><p>"Never, ever change, Jackie," she says, which makes him pout and stick his tongue out at her. "I missed you so much."</p><p>Somehow that interaction is what solidifies it for Katherine— her best friends are just as tight with Sarah as they are with her. They're <em>family</em>, in fact. This is sort of insane.</p><p>She already decided she doesn't particularly like Sarah— though that might be too strong, it's more that she finds Sarah a little annoying and infuriating. She's too pretty to be this boring, and it's driving Kath a little crazy. But now she's not just some girl she's interviewing, she's Davey's <em>sister</em>, so they basically have to get along or it'll make things super awkward. If they do clash, it would only be natural for Davey to take his twin's side, wouldn't it? So Kath can't even rant to him about how horrible this job is, since that's essentially insulting his family.</p><p>Damn it. <em>Damn it</em>. This fucking <em>sucks</em>.</p><p>"Well, this is gonna be fun!" Kath laughs, directly contradicting her own internal monologue. "What a weird coincidence!"</p><p>Davey shoots her a look that say he <em>knows</em> she's lying about something, but she'd rather die than admit that she doesn't like his sister, so she just rolls her eyes in an attempt to play it off.</p><p>"Have you guys been getting along?" Davey asks, ever the instigator. He gives Kath yet another pointed look. "I know Kathy here was <em>so</em> excited for this assignment."</p><p>That bitch.</p><p>For a moment, Sarah looks over to Kath and seems rather confused, but she quickly shrugs it off. </p><p>"I mean, it's been fine," she says. She smiles at Davey and it suddenly becomes apparent that she has <em>dimples</em>. Jesus. "All business so far, but I'm sure we'll get to know each other as the week goes on."</p><p>"Yeah," Kath jumps in. "I'm sure we'll have a great time."</p><p>Davey looks back and forth between them, and grins in that self-satisfied way that he always does when he's telling Katherine about the particularly messy cases that he's working on. He's a sucker for schadenfreude— more typically when he's defending one giant corporation against a lawsuit from another, filing a countersuit, and waiting to see who will end up making the bigger payout— but maybe this will satisfy him while he's away from the office.</p><p>"Oh, it'll be fun," he says, laughing almost deviously. "It'll be an interesting week, that's for sure."</p><p>-</p><p>"The morning shift isn't so bad. I kind of like it, honestly."</p><p>Katherine looks rather like she's still half-asleep, but Sarah has opted not to comment on that. She's just chatting as she works, getting dough in the oven and prepping ingredients for the rest of the day.</p><p>It's five in the morning, the sun is still a couple hours away from rising, and the little town is perfectly quiet. It's a cold and overcast, and Sarah expects that it might snow again today, which is still unseasonably early given that it's only the first week of December.</p><p>"You do this every day?" Katherine asks. "<em>This</em> early?"</p><p>She's still managed to look put together, despite apparently not being a morning person— she's just as well-dressed as she was yesterday, she's got her hair in a tidy ponytail, and she's wearing tortoiseshell glasses that would look entirely dorky on anyone else, but somehow look fashionable on her. She's sitting on the stool that Charlie uses for balance while decorating, chewing on the end of her pencil and watching Sarah work.</p><p>"Monday to Friday," Sarah replies. "Charlie takes the early shift on Saturdays, and we open later on Sundays. Even though it's early, it's mostly just waiting around while things bake and getting set up for the day, so it doesn't really feel like <em>work</em> yet. I'm just organizing my kitchen."</p><p>Katherine nods and jots something down on her notepad.</p><p>"So when does work actually start?"</p><p>Sarah throws on her oven mitts and reaches for a tray of mini bread loaves that should be about done.</p><p>"We open at seven-thirty. Charlie comes in around seven, and Racetrack doesn't usually get here until eight-thirty— he lives on a farm with his grandparents, so he has to, like, milk cows and stuff before he comes into town. He's a busy bee."</p><p>She slides the loaves onto a cooling rack and sets the tray aside so she can throw the next batch in the oven. Katherine is awfully quiet this morning— probably courtesy of the early hour and the poor excuse for coffee that Medda serves at the bed and breakfast in town. She scribbles a few more things on her notepad and seems entirely bored. Sarah feels a little bad.</p><p>There's not much she can do, though— work has to go on as usual, so she continues at her typical pace, narrating as she goes.</p><p>-</p><p>"Good morning!"</p><p>It's eight o'clock, and Davey and Jack are already here. Sarah loves them, she really does, but she has no idea why they're here so early. Shouldn't they be catching up with Esther and Mayer?</p><p>"Why on earth are you here?" Sarah sighs. She's at the front counter to deal with the morning regulars, since Race isn't in yet. Katherine is sitting behind the counter with her, taking notes and still looking incredibly bored. "Not that I'm not happy to see you."</p><p>Davey and Jack exchange a sheepish look.</p><p>"Mom got excited and tried making a new Pinterest recipe for breakfast," Davey sighs. "It was... interesting."</p><p>"So you're here to pick up something edible, then?" Sarah laughs. "I mean, at least she's trying. She's glad you guys are here."</p><p>Their mother is, to put it lightly, a <em>horrible</em> chef. Sarah certainly didn't get the baking genes from her; they must have skipped a generation. Esther is ambitious, sure, but it very rarely pays off— she almost always forgets ingredients, under-mixes things, or simply burns them. The kitchen smoke alarm certainly gets a good workout.</p><p>"It was a cool idea," Jack offers. "It was like a casserole and an omelette all at the same time, and I think it had hash browns in the bottom? It probably could've been good if she didn't cook it for so long, and maybe mixed the ingredients better. Like, as far as white-people food goes, it wasn't the worst I've seen."</p><p>"He's being too nice," Davey chuckles. "It looked like cat vomit and smelled even worse. Even Dad wouldn't touch it."</p><p>Sarah laughs, already getting her parents' favourites out of the display case. She hardly notices the way Jack frowns a little at the accusation of being <em>too nice</em>.</p><p>"Cinnamon roll for Dad, blueberry muffin for Mom," she says, as she places them in a box. "What can I get you guys?"</p><p>Davey and Jack choose their treats, they have a brief conversation with Katherine about how the whole house now stinks of burnt eggs while Sarah runs off to the kitchen to bring out a fresh batch of muffins, and then they're back out into the windy, cold air to walk back to Sarah and Davey's childhood home.</p><p>-</p><p>So far, Katherine isn't sure she's going to have much of an article to write.</p><p>Sarah has been busy all morning, so they've made limited conversation, and the notes she's taken are rather bare-bones. A few points about her daily schedule, the answers to the handful of questions she asked, and a fair amount of doodles in the margins are all she's scribbled on her notepad so far. She's never been the most observational reporter— she prefers straightforward answers to direct questions, not watching and waiting like this.</p><p>There's only so many notes she can take on the topic of baking— when she's not talking to customers, Sarah is in the back, kneading dough and putting things into the oven and doing all the boring activities one might expect. The first deviation from the slow, meandering routine is when Sarah gets a phone call a couple of hours after Davey and Jack's departure.</p><p>"Hey Race," she says, abandoning the cookie dough she'd been rolling out. "What? Oh, that's okay. I mean, I was wondering where you were, but it's fine. Today's super slow anyways. Any reason <em>why</em> you can't come in?" She pauses, listening. "Oh shit, okay. You have fun with that, then. I'll see you tomorrow."</p><p>"No Race today?" Charlie asks, the moment Sarah hangs up, looking entirely delighted.</p><p>Sarah laughs, tucking her phone away.</p><p>"It's your lucky day. Apparently there's a snowstorm coming, so he's got farm stuff to do. Weatherproofing the barn, or whatever."</p><p>"A snowstorm?" Katherine finally chimes in. "At the beginning of December? It's not even winter yet."</p><p>Sarah shrugs.</p><p>"That's what I was thinking. I guess it's better to be prepared than risk not being ready." She picks her rolling pin up to get back to work. "I doubt it'll actually snow <em>that</em> much."</p><p>"I hope it does," says Charlie, who seems to be sticking together some kind of marshmallow snowman. "It's been ages since we've had a <em>huge</em> snow. Finch loves cross-country skiing and I might actually try going with him this year— not sure how well prosthetic legs will hold up, but I'm willing to give it a shot."</p><p>Sarah laughs, and her smile is so damn bright that it distracts Katherine for a second.</p><p>"Just wait until you get stuck and your feet pop right off," she giggles. "Won't it be romantic when he has to carry you home?"</p><p>Charlie rolls her eyes.</p><p>"Very funny." She waves one leg around, as if to prove a point. "These suckers are attached nice and tight. They're not going anywhere."</p><p>Now, Katherine feels a little out of the loop, since she hadn't even noticed Charlie's... <em>leg situation</em>, but it doesn't seem appropriate to add it to her notes, so she just laughs along with the girls. If anything, she's glad Charlie and Sarah are so funny, since it's made the tedious reality of kitchen work a little more bearable.</p><p>Before the conversation can go any further, the bell above the front door rings, and Sarah has to rush out to the front counter.</p><p>"You again..." she groans. "David, shouldn't you be spending some time with our parents? Considering that you haven't been home in <em>years</em>."</p><p>"Hey," Davey replies indignantly, as Kath follows Sarah out of the kitchen, "I just spent all morning with them. I only get along with Dad in small doses, so I'm doing my best. And we needed to see you anyways."</p><p>Sarah quirks an eyebrow.</p><p>"Why's that? Because if you want to hang out in my bakery, I'm putting you to work. This is a family business."</p><p>Davey nudges Jack, who immediately lights up like (for lack of a better comparison) a Christmas tree.</p><p>"I was hoping I could draw you!" Jack says. "Davey can help you work, but you see I've got this gift idea for your parents, and I've already got portraits of Davey and Les done, so I was thinking I could start on yours... if you're cool with that. I'd just watch while you're working and start sketching it out."</p><p>That's what Kath meant about Jack being smarter than he seems— emotional intelligence is it's own domain, and he's incredibly thoughtful. A series of portraits is, like, a ridiculously cool gift, and leave it to Jack to actually pull it off. He's crazy talented too, so the finished products will surely be amazing.</p><p>"I mean, I've already got Katherine watching me today, so you might as well join her," Sarah laughs, though Kath can tell she's definitely a little uncomfortable with all the attention. "Go for it."</p><p>"You can come sit with me, Jackie!" Katherine calls. "It's riveting stuff, watching her put things in the oven and then take them out. We've had quite the morning."</p><p>"It's like watching a cooking show in real life!" Jack beams, apparently mistaking Kath's sarcasm for sincerity. "Sarah's basically the cake boss."</p><p>-</p><p>Once Sarah has (somewhat warily) allowed Jack into her kitchen, he spends about half his time drawing and half his time fascinated by everything going on around him. Davey has been tasked with sweeping the floors and wiping down the counters, which he's actually doing with surprisingly little protest.</p><p>"A baby chicken lives here," Jack whispers to Katherine, cradling an egg he must have stolen from Charlie or Sarah's work stations. "I'm gonna take it home and raise it."</p><p>"I don't think that's how that works," Katherine replies, whispering back. "The eggs you cook with don't have actual chickens in them."</p><p>Jack frowns.</p><p>"I know where babies come from Kath. Baby chickens come from eggs, I'm not stupid."</p><p>"Aren't you supposed to be drawing?" Kath sighs, as if diverting the topic will change his mind. "Can I see what you have so far?"</p><p>This is thankfully enough to get Jack to set the egg down, and when he looks away, Kath slides it back over to where Charlie is making a batter of some sort. They exchange an amused look, and Charlie simply laughs and shakes her head fondly— it's sort of impossible to even be annoyed with Jack.</p><p>"I don't have much so far," Jack says, handing Kath his sketchbook. "Just doodling for now."</p><p>The collection of little sketches on the page are far from doodles, in Kath's opinion. There's a dozen or so little versions of Sarah's face in Jack's near-photorealistic style, all with slightly different expressions, including little details of her appearance that Katherine hadn't even noticed.</p><p>"I think I like this one best," Jack continues, pointing to one in the top right corner. She's sort of smiling, almost like it's absentminded, and looking down at something in front of her. There's a sparkle to her eyes that makes her look spirited and real, and though she's not fully smiling, it's obvious that she's happy. "I mean, just from watching her cook, you can <em>tell</em> she loves it. It's the little details— you could watch her for thirty seconds and know this is what she's meant to be doing."</p><p>Katherine blinks. She hadn't quite thought about it that way.</p><p>She looks over to Sarah, and it's like she's put on a pair of rose-coloured glasses. She doesn't see mundanity this time— she sees <em>passion</em>. There's something to be said for someone who can live in a slow-paced routine, and she supposes it simply suits some people, the same way Katherine's own hectic days in the city suit her.</p><p>Sarah suddenly looks up, like she can tell she's being watched.</p><p>"Jesus," she laughs. "I know you two are supposed to be watching me, but you don't have to stare quite so hard. I can <em>feel</em> it."</p><p>This catches Katherine off-guard, as she's not sure just how long she got caught up in staring for. She can feel the heat rising to her cheeks in embarrassment as she quickly averts her gaze and laughs sheepishly.</p><p>"Sorry, sorry," she says, doing her best to play it off. "It's just interesting to watch someone do what they love."</p><p>Sarah's eyes go a little wide at that, almost like she's flattered.</p><p>"Oh! Well, fair enough, I guess!" she giggles. "I shouldn't tell you how to do your job. Stare away, if you want to, I suppose."</p><p>And then she's back to the challah dough that she's been meticulously braiding, smiling just a little brighter than before. Katherine finds herself smiling too.</p><p>-</p><p>Time slips away from Sarah somehow, and the rest of the day sort of blurs together until it's time to close. The only time she leaves the bakery is to rush home and take her dog for a walk on her lunch break, so that she doesn't have to walk him in the snow tonight. It's already begun to fall, big fluffy flakes coming down like the inside of a snow globe, and it's just the right temperature to make it wet and heavy, starting to pack onto the sidewalks and streets.</p><p>There's been a slow trickle of customers all day— still more than usual, but certainly not the traffic they'd gotten over the weekend. Davey and Jack have been hanging around, and her hypothesis that Jack and Charlie would get along spectacularly well was entirely accurate— she's taught him how to hold a piping bag, and he's started frosting intricate snowflake designs that almost look too beautiful to eat.</p><p>It's just as they're about to close— Charlie already headed out to hop in her boyfriend's truck, Katherine packing up her things, and Davey and Jack about to head back to Esther and Mayer's house— that the phone rings, interrupting the goodbyes.</p><p>"A custom order for <em>when</em>?" Sarah sighs, exasperated. "We're about to close. The earliest I could have it done is Wednesday."</p><p>On the phone is a woman from a couple towns over, asking how quickly two dozen cupcakes can be ready and decorated for her daughter's birthday party. She apparently forgot to put the order in last week, and the party is tomorrow— she will, however, pay triple Sarah's usual rate to have them in time.</p><p>Triple the pay is definitely enough of a motivator for Sarah to consider staying late, and this poor mother sounds rather desperate. It's not like she had any evening plans anyways, so she may as well do something kind. It's nearly the holidays after all.</p><p>"Sure," she eventually says. "Just go through the online ordering form, and add the extra fees to the tip section. I'll try to make sure they're good to go by noon tomorrow."</p><p>She hangs up the old-school landline and groans. Just because she's doing something nice doesn't mean she has to be happy about it.</p><p>"Working late?" Davey asks, amused. "I was supposed to convince you to come over for dinner, but I'll tell Mom and Dad you can do tomorrow instead."</p><p>"Tomorrow," Sarah agrees. "I'll come watch Les's game and we can all catch up. Looks like I'm baking cupcakes tonight." She turns to Katherine. "You totally don't have to stick around, you've been here all day— you've probably got enough of a start on your article, hey?"</p><p>To her absolute surprise, Katherine simply smiles and shrugs. Her attitude seems to have shifted throughout the day— she's practically been babysitting Jack for much of the afternoon, but he's got an oddly effective way with words, so maybe he said something to change her perspective. She seems almost <em>excited</em>.</p><p>"I have nothing better to do," she says. "It'll just be me hanging out at the bed and breakfast if I leave, so if you don't mind the company, I might as well stay here."</p><p>Sarah hates the delighted expression that crosses Davey's face in this moment. He surely thinks he's had some part in <em>setting them up</em> or something— all he's done today is provide a running commentary about how the holiday decor is too Christmassy (not Sarah's problem, considering she let Charlie and Race decorate, and they both <em>celebrate</em> Christmas,) and how their father has been trying to talk him into a family hockey match on the backyard rink. He's entirely useless, in Sarah's opinion.</p><p>"That's fine by me," Sarah replies, pointedly ignoring her obnoxious brother. She grins at Katherine. "Maybe I can give you a baking lesson while we're here."</p><p>Katherine smiles right back, and there's almost a trace of a blush on her cheeks.</p><p>"Sounds like fun."</p><p>There's a moment where it feels like they're in their own little world, but it's immediately shattered by Davey clapping his hands together in the classic white-person <em>time to go</em> gesture.</p><p>"We'll leave you ladies to it, then," he says, which makes Sarah want to strangle him. "Sounds like you'll have a lovely night."</p><p>Sarah rolls her eyes as she fishes for her keys in her pocket. She tosses them to her brother.</p><p>"Go stop by my place and feed my dog, please. He gets moody if he doesn't eat on time."</p><p>"Can we take him for a sleepover at your mom and dad's?" asks Jack, suddenly excited. "I love dogs. We'll have so much fun, I promise. I'll take such good care of him."</p><p>Davey, definitely more of a cat person, scrunches his nose as he sticks Sarah's keys in his pocket. He's totally whipped for Jack, though, so he doesn't protest.</p><p>"Fine," Sarah laughs. "He's a bit of a handful, but I'm sure you guys can manage. He loves snow, but he gets excited and runs off, so don't let him out— he's big enough to jump Mom and Dad's back fence."</p><p>Jack bounces giddily on his toes and takes Davey's hand to drag him towards the door. It's begun to snow even harder in just the past few minutes, and the wind has picked up, making for a blustery evening.</p><p>"A dog slumber party!" he giggles as they open the door, and and Davey presses himself up behind Jack as if that'll help keep him warm. It's almost disgusting how in love they are. "This is awesome."</p><p>The door swings shut behind them and Sarah and Katherine both burst into laughter.</p><p>"You're trusting them with your dog?" Katherine asks.</p><p>Sarah simply shrugs and shakes her head fondly.</p><p>"My parents will be there to supervise. What's the worst that could happen?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>what COULD go wrong?? the foreshadowing was a little heavy-handed here, i know, but what else can you expect from a hallmark movie? :D</p><p>pretty please leave a comment if you're enjoying this! also i'm almost done w my finals so it shouldn't be too long before the next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cute jacobs sibling backstory and SO many internal monologues</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hiya!! merry belated christmas (if that's what you celebrate) and happy almost new year! i've been having a wonderful holiday season, though the last few days have been a little busy so that's why this chapter took ages... i was planning to have it done for christmas eve but i'm just no good with deadlines.</p><p>i didn't really proofread this, so if there's mistakes, just pretend you didn't see them! i don't think i've ever posted a chapter of a fic without at least one typo, so that's nothing new lol</p><p>as usual for this fic, no tws for this chapter! we get some newsbians fluff, a couple javid scenes, as well as a jacobs twins flashback for some backstory. a lot going on, so try to keep up! enjoy! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Wanna borrow an apron? I don't know what it is about cupcakes, but I always make a mess."</p><p>Sarah is smiling sheepishly as she offers an apron in Kath's direction, which is almost definitely homemade. It's got a pattern of little bees and honeypots all over it, with a bright yellow trim, and it's simply far too adorable for Katherine to turn it down.</p><p>There's a couple of coat hooks near the back doors of the kitchen that hold at least a dozen aprons in similarly bold patterns and colours— it seems as if maybe Sarah collects them.</p><p>"You've certainly got a lot of aprons," Katherine notes as she ties hers on. "Do you make them yourself?"</p><p>Sarah laughs out loud at that, as she switches her plain pastel-pink apron from earlier out for a fresh one patterned with a variety of cartoonish farm animals.</p><p>"Oh god, no. I really tried to learn to sew when I was little— I was in 4-H Club and we did sewing projects all the time— but I'm just not handy with a needle and thread." She laughs again and shakes her head as she ties the back ribbon of the apron with a flourish. "All my mom's friends in the town women's league make aprons for me and Charlie every Christmas. I don't even <em>celebrate</em> Christmas, but I get presents from all the church ladies on the twenty-fifth every year. It's really sweet."</p><p>Katherine laughs along while fumbling with her own ribbon— Sarah made it look so easy to tie a bow behind her back, but Kath fears she might be lacking the coordination for that.</p><p>"Need a hand?" Sarah asks, upon noticing the struggle. "I can get that for you."</p><p>She hardly waits for a response, and Kath is incredibly thankful that Sarah is now standing behind her, because a blush has blossomed on her face for what feels like the hundredth time today. It's not like it's even particularly intimate, tying an apron, but Sarah's hands are <em>so close</em> to her waist and their heights are nearly level so if they <em>were</em> together it would be perfect for a hug from behind and— <em>wow</em>. Katherine Pulitzer has officially been single for far too long, because an entirely casual interaction should <em>not</em> be getting her this flustered.</p><p>"Thanks," Katherine breathes out after a moment. "I appreciate it."</p><p>"No worries!" says Sarah, all bright and oblivious to Katherine's internal freak-out. "Anyways, we should get down to business. Cupcakes don't bake themselves, as much as I wish they could!"</p><p>Right. That's the whole reason they're here— Sarah has an order to fill, and she's offered to teach Katherine to bake while they're at it. She's <em>so</em> not going to survive this.</p><p>-</p><p>"You didn't tell me your hometown was this cute!" Jack beams, as they walk hand-in-hand towards Sarah's house. "I mean, it seriously looks like the inside of a snow globe. It's so precious."</p><p>Davey laughs somewhat sheepishly. He does feel a little bad that it's taken him this long to bring Jack home and show him around, but he'd honestly be perfectly happy to stay far away from this place forever. He loves his parents and Sarah, of course, but he definitely prefers flying them out for some fancy family vacation or meeting up with them whenever they come into the city. He doesn't have a lot of good memories tied to this miserable little town, and he can't say it's particularly nice to be back.</p><p>"I guess it <em>is</em> pretty," he admits with a sigh. "When you remove all the people, this could be a nice little town."</p><p>Jack rolls his eyes.</p><p>"Oh, come on. If it was <em>that</em> bad, why would Sarah still live here? If everyone is as horrible as you say, wouldn't she have moved at the same time you did?"</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>"What the fuck do we do, Bear?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sarah smiles a little at the childhood nickname— their Dad had always called her 'Sarebear', which a much younger Davey had shortened to 'Bear' when his braces gave him a lisp that drove him to avoid S sounds at all costs— but the smile slips off her face as she tries to come up with an answer for Davey.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I don't know," she eventually sighs. "I looked at the bill from the hospital when Mom left it on the table. You saw it, right?" She pauses while Davey nods. "I mean, that's an insane amount of money, and that's only the first bill. There's gonna be more."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Davey drops his head in his hands. They're sitting in their shared bedroom, having already put Les to bed, while their mother spends the night in a hotel closer to the hospital so she can be there for their father's early-morning surgery. This is supposedly the one that's going to help him walk again, though that's what was said about the last one, which only left him in even more pain than before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"How the hell are we gonna go to college?" Davey finally asks. It's the question they've both been avoiding, considering that they're graduating from high school in a week. They're both committed to incredible schools, but their father's accident has now decimated any sense of financial security their family once had. "Dad can't work, and now there's all these bills, and I don't want Les to have to give anything up because of this. We can't afford for both of us to leave, so maybe I should just stay here and apprentice a trade or something."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That's the absolute last thing on earth that he wants to do, but they're sort of running out of options here. Someone needs to be at home to make some money and help around the house, since their father has always been the main breadwinner and he's now unable to even get out of bed most days.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No," Sarah immediately replies, "you're going to college, David. You'd be absolutely fucking insane to give up a full ride to Columbia! You have to take it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Davey sighs— how is she not getting this? They can't both leave. Their mother can't take care of both Les and their Dad while somehow making enough money to run the household and start making minimum payments on the hospital bills. Les would have to give up hockey if that were the case, since equipment and travel and team fees are already hard to keep up with, and he's so passionate and talented that that's just not an option.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"We can't both leave," he tries to re-explain. "One of us needs to be here to help Mom, and you can't give up Stanford, so I'll hold off on college for now and get a job here. It'll suck, but it has to happen. You got accepted to your dream school, so obviously you have to—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I declined."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I took back my acceptance," she elaborates, looking somewhat ashamed, but also determined. "I just went on the website and did it today. I'm not going. I can't make you stick around this stupid town anymore, Davey... you'll be so much happier in the city. You can go be yourself and make some good friends and get away from all of this. I'll just keep working at the bakery— Miss Irene says she wants me to take it over when she retires, you know. Maybe I'll just do that, or maybe I'll go to college in a few years."</em>
</p><p><em>"Sarah..." Davey cuts her off. "Did you even talk to Mom and Dad about this? You got into the best school in the country, and you're giving it up for </em>me<em>? You're insane."</em></p><p>
  <em>Sarah shrugs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'll tell them when they get home; Stanford seems pretentious anyways. I like baking— I think I'll be fine here."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You're crazy," Davey repeats, though he has to admit that he's never felt more loved in his entire life. His sister is the best person he knows. "You'd better be a damn good baker, if you're giving up college to make cakes."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She rolls her eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And you'd better be a damn good lawyer, since I dropped out of my dream school for you to go get your education."</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Davey still feels a little guilty, knowing that Sarah could have gone on to be a doctor like she'd been planning— though he also knows how happy she is in the little life she's made for herself, so he supposes maybe it all worked out.</p><p>He thinks about it for the rest of the walk to Sarah's house, during which the wind picks up and the snow starts to come down a little heavier, but he's pulled out of his thoughts once they arrive.</p><p>"Hi puppy!" Jack giggles, crouching down in Sarah's doorway, met by a lively golden retriever who is <em>much</em> bigger than the last time Davey was here. "Oh my gosh, aren't you a beauty?"</p><p>Davey sneaks past them into the house, not particularly thrilled by the idea of getting covered in dog hair. He can at least find the dog food in the kitchen while Jack plays with Moose.</p><p>He's never actually been to Sarah's house, apart from a house tour via FaceTime when she first moved in a few years ago. Real estate isn't exactly a hot commodity around here, so when an older lady that their parents knew had decided to move into senior care, she let Sarah buy the house for cheap. He takes a look around the kitchen, and gets a little distracted by the calendar and pictures on the fridge.</p><p>Yesterday's date is covered with a post-it note reading <em>DAVEY COMES HOME!!</em>, and there's a collection of family photos all over the fridge door. Davey's undergrad convocation and his law school commencement, Les' last junior hockey game, the party their parents threw him when he signed with the NHL— it's kind of cool to look back at all their accomplishments. The accomplishments in question are mostly himself and Les, though, and it makes Davey's chest ache a little as he realizes just how much his sister gave up for them.</p><p>"Oh, that's cute!" Jack remarks, leaning over Davey's shoulder and snapping him out of his little trance. He points to one of the photos as Moose circles their feet. "Oh my god, little undergrad Davey! I miss your long hair, you were such a cutie."</p><p>Davey laughs a little— his hair really wasn't <em>that </em>long. It just hung down into his eyes in a classic early-2010s messy fringe, which was in at the time but <em>so</em> outdated now. Quite honestly, it would probably do a great job of hiding his (only slightly) receding hairline if he grew it out that long again, but he can't imagine walking into a courtroom to defend a corporate lawsuit looking like he ought to be in a boyband.</p><p>"Hey, I'm still cute, right?" Davey whines, turning around to lean in for a kiss, which Jack seems happy to give him. "God, imagine twenty-one year-old me trying to get with twenty-one year-old you... I'm glad we didn't meet for a couple more years."</p><p>Jack's nose scrunches.</p><p>"What's that supposed to mean?"</p><p>"I mean, you were totally out of my league. Still are, if we're being honest," Davey laughs, "but you probably wouldn't even give me the time of day back then."</p><p>Jack turns away to crouch down and pet Moose, seeming sort of annoyed, and Davey realizes he may have put his foot in his mouth here.</p><p>"I'm not <em>that</em> shallow," Jack says, and it's hard to tell if he's actually hurt or just being extra sarcastic. "I know you think I'm stupid, but I <em>do </em>have a brain. I wouldn't be rude to someone just because I'm not attracted to them."</p><p>Davey's eyes go wide.</p><p>"What? That's not what I meant— I was just saying you were already so hot back then that you'd want nothing to with a dweeb like me, I-"</p><p>"And <em>I</em> was just saying," Jack snaps, "that I can't believe you'd think that about me."</p><p>There's a moment of tense silence. So Jack actually <em>was</em> hurt, and now Davey has gone and made it worse. Alright. This sucks.</p><p>"Hey, baby..." he starts. "I didn't-"</p><p>Jack shakes his head and cuts him off. He's always been very temperamental, and while he's quick to anger, he cools down just as fast. It's clear that he feels bad for snapping, but also that there's probably some feelings that he's been bottling up that need to be worked through eventually.</p><p>"Just leave it for now, okay?" he sighs. "Why don't you get the dog food out? I'll fill his water."</p><p>Davey swallows and nods. It's probably not worth arguing right now— they've got to get back to his parents' house for dinner.</p><p>-</p><p>"Okay, we need a dozen chocolate and a dozen vanilla, so I'm thinking we can each just make one flavour." Sarah takes in Katherine's apprehensive expression and laughs softly. "I'll guide you through it the whole way. All you have to do is put ingredients in a bowl."</p><p>She's pulled out a couple of stand mixers and set out all the ingredients, so now all there is to do is actually get started.</p><p>"Let me reiterate," Katherine says, looking very flustered and, quite frankly, adorable, "I'm terrible at baking. Maybe it would be better if I just watched."</p><p>"Oh come on," Sarah taunts, and she supposes that to an outside observer, this might look Ike flirting. "Are you scared of a little butter, sugar, and flour?"</p><p>Katherine huffs, offended.</p><p>"I'm not <em>scared</em>. I just don't want to mess up— real people have to eat these cupcakes, and I don't want to be responsible for food poisoning or something. You'd get the blame, it could ruin your business! I'm just thinking ahead."</p><p>"Sounds like you might be a chicken."</p><p>Katherine's jaw drops, and Sarah can't help the satisfied grin that crosses her face. Maybe it's due to being raised surrounded by hockey players (she'd played a bit herself but ultimately chosen dance classes instead, though that's beside the point), but she can't seem to make friends without at least a little bit of chirping. It's only natural.</p><p>"Forgive me for caring about your business!" Katherine fumes, though it's clear she's not actually offended. "I'm trying to make sure you don't sell something inedible!"</p><p>"If they taste bad, I'll just remake them!" Sarah laughs. "And besides, I'll tell you exactly what to do every step of the way. As long as you can take directions, you won't mess anything up. I mean, come on... you already put the apron on and everything."</p><p>Katherine looks down at the bumblebee apron that she must have forgotten she was wearing, and her face screws up as she realizes she's losing this battle.</p><p>"Fine," she sighs. "But you can't blame me if something goes wrong."</p><p>-</p><p>It takes a while for the awkward silence between Jack and Davey to break, but when it does, it's with a shout.</p><p>"Holy shit! Babe, come look out the window!"</p><p>Jack had disappeared into the living room moments ago, following Moose, who's done with his dinner. Davey is still in the kitchen, looking closer at some of the pictures— it's sort of an in-between space in this rather old house, so there's no actual windows to outside from here. Jack had sounded a little worried, so Davey is quick to come see what's going on.</p><p>Snow. A <em>lot</em> of it. That's what's going on.</p><p>In the ten or-so minutes that they've been inside, the wind seems to have picked up exponentially— it's whipping clouds of huge snowflakes around in menacing, tornado-like shapes, the house across the street barely even visible.</p><p>"Jesus... now <em>that's</em> a storm." Davey feels like a spitting image of his father when he saunters over to the window with his hands on his hips. "It's probably safer to wait it out here than to try to walk back to my parents' place."</p><p>Jack has a dog toy in hand, playing absentmindedly with Moose while watching out the window.</p><p>"Shouldn't we just go before we get snowed in here? Look how it's piling up at the door already."</p><p>It's true that a snowbank is building up— the wind is blowing straight towards the front of the house and packing a dense layer of heavy, wet snow down. However, with wind this strong it seems risky to go outside, let alone with an excitable big dog who could take off if they lose grip on his leash.</p><p>"No, it probably won't last too much longer. I doubt we'll be stuck or anything, but the wind's too strong to try and walk out there now."</p><p>Jack's expression twists, frowning a little as his idea is dismissed, but Davey doesn't think much of it.</p><p>"Whatever," he sighs. "When we're snowed in, don't blame me."</p><p>Davey laughs and pets Jack's hair, leaning in to kiss his cheek.</p><p>"Don't stress about it, baby. We won't get snowed in— it'll stop in no time, and we'll just be late for dinner."</p><p>Jack rolls his eyes, but as far as Davey can tell, it's just playful. Hopefully he's not still mad— while they really <em>should</em> talk about earlier, Davey doesn't particularly want to yet. They've been fighting less than usual lately (not that they typically fight all that much, but the past little while has been particularly calm), and he'd really like it to stay that way. He knows Jack won't bring it up, as he's never confrontational until he needs to be, so maybe they can just let this pass.</p><p>"At least we finally have some privacy," Davey continues, as he heads for the couch to sit down for a while. "We can cuddle without my parents being all weird about it. C'mere."</p><p>Jack, at the very least, smiles as he crosses the room to come snuggle into Davey's side, beckoning for Moose to come lay across their laps. This has to be a good sign— they're not going to fight tonight.</p><p>-</p><p>"Oh my gosh, the flour mixture goes <em>in</em> the bowl. I think you managed to get it everywhere but!"</p><p>Sarah is laughing as she watches Katherine struggle with the KitchenAid. She made the mistake of dumping the dry ingredients in way too fast, resulting in an atomic explosion of white powder. </p><p>"I'm trying!" Katherine whines, unable to stop herself from laughing along. Dare she say it, this is actually kind of <em>fun</em>. "I told you I'd be horrible!"</p><p>"No, no, you're seriously doing fine," Sarah giggles, reaching over with a rag to wipe the mess from the counter. "I'm just teasing— you didn't even spill that much, it just gets everywhere."</p><p>Katherine sighs dramatically.</p><p>"I'm hopeless." She makes a grand show of leaning over defeatedly on the counter. "You don't have to sugarcoat it."</p><p>Sarah snickers, and there's a moment of silence where she's <em>very</em> clearly crafting a joke.</p><p>"More like <em>flour</em>coat it," she finally giggles. "Get it? You're covered in flour?"</p><p>Katherine just groans and closes her eyes, as if that'll shield her from the terrible pun.</p><p>"That was awful."</p><p>"Hey, they can't all be golden," Sarah laughs. "I'll keep workshopping it. Just wait for my big comedy club debut— who needs baking, right?"</p><p>Katherine catches herself grinning stupidly as she watches Sarah throw the rag over her shoulder with a god-awful cocky grin, and then bounce back over to her own mixer. She's working on the chocolate mixture, and she hadn't lied about cupcakes being messy— she rubs her nose for a moment and pulls her hand away to leave a glob of batter in its wake. She doesn't even seem to notice it as she flicks her mixer on again.</p><p>God, she's pretty. Even with batter on her face. Even when she's making stupid jokes. Even when she once seemed to be the most boring person alive, and even now that she's shown herself to be charismatic, entertaining, and ridiculously kind.</p><p>Shit. <em>Shit</em>. Sarah Jacobs is fucking gorgeous, and Katherine Pulitzer is in <em>dangerous</em> territory.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the contrast between javid and the girls in this chapter is just sending me..... no windows in the back of the bakery, so the girls are blissfully unaware of the storm outside, meanwhile jack and davey have a storm of their own brewing if they don't get their heads on straight and talk things out.</p><p>please leave a comment! i'd love to hear your thoughts!!!!! :))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>